"A crescendo? I think..." Gabriel tried to recall quickly what he remembered about music, something that had once been a very important hobby of his. He starts humming along with the noise from the light, and the singing helps him knock a bit loose from his mind. "18 seconds until the humming noise growing in the light concludes."
”A magic circle with an energy protection spell focused outward,” Rilka says as the lights starts to glow. "We have less than 30 seconds before it's fully activated I think." Her mind is racing about how to stop it and what type of energy protection it might be.
Knowing he isn't versed enough in magic to help figure out the problem, Bjorkus instead focuses on digging through the nearby crates for a solution.
This is not good. "A trap, I would say. It seems Heff hadn't completely taken leave of his senses. At least not any more than usual."
Dalton peered into the center of the circle. "I suppose we'll see whatever it is come to a head. There is naught I can do about it."
"Rilka, can you stop the trap?"
For us?
"There is one advantage to this setup: If reusable, it may be able to ensnare our friendly bodysnatcher."
”There are rules for traps, like engineering or animal training. Even with magic involved. Just a matter of finding the trick to this one,” Rilka says as she hurries around the circumference, looking for the best method to attack the trap.
”The circle protects those within against fire,” Rilka adds. "Why it's here, I don't know. Bjorkus, throw one of the bigger pieces of rubble into the circle. It might be a pit trap." She knows they don't have much time left. "If the floor doesn't collapse I'll jump in as well to be sure and then everybody." The sound is annoying her and slightly pressing her thoughts together.
And time is about to run out.
”Get ready to jump into the circle!” Rilka yells as the crescendo drills into her brain. She jumps over the symbols to land within the circle. It appears safe. ”Everybody, get in here! We’ll be safe.”
Bjorkus's eyes grow wide as he dives for the circle!
Out of the fire, into the frying pan!
Toramin heeds her warning.
Gabriel also jumps in, losing his concentration with the surprise of what was happening. He's quick to try and regain it and immediately starts focusing on the party again though.
Dalton follows suit and scurries into the circle as well. It was amazing how fast an old, fat man could move when his life depended on it.
Everybody trusts in Rilka's skills, diving inside the circle.
And not a moment too soon.
The noise reaches its peak and a wild inferno erupts from the walls, coating the entire room in a blistering heat. But when the flames touch the outer ring of the magic circle, they are stopped and cast aside. After a few seconds the flames subside, and the walls of force disappate.
Bjorkus looks to Rilka for the go-ahead and as soon as the smoke’s begun to settle, he steps outside of the circle and heads for the eastern hallway.
Rilka watches the inferno rage around the circle with awe. Her eyes are wide, and she has a slight grin of disbelief. When it’s over she says, ”Everyone okay? Which way do you want to try? To the east?” she asks heading to investigate if the corridor leading to the east has any traps.
Rilka leads down the eastern hallway which splits to the left.
Bjorkus follows behind Rilka as the halfling scans for signs of traps.
As the fire dissipated, Dalton nodded his head to the suggestion of movement. So sad it is we are accustomed to these near-death experiences now.
"Miss Featherfeet, you've kept me from becoming a roast. I am indebted to you."
The party goes east at a suggestion from Bjorkus. The 25 foot hallway turns left and expands out to be a 15 foot wide hallway that leads north. However, not ten feet away, there's a massive pile of rubble that blocks off the entire hallway.
Bjorkus assists Rilka in scanning the hallway for traps.
Getting to the pile of rubble, he shakes his head.
"That came down recently. We could clear it but it'd take hours", the bull explains.
"There was another passage. Let's go down it."
”Happy to be of service,” Rilka replies to Dalton. ”The goal’s to get everyone out safely.” She stands at the base of the rubble, scanning the area for a reasonable explanation.
"I agree. To the north it is."
”Happy to be of service,” Rilka replies to Dalton. ”The goal’s to get everyone out safely.” She stands at the base of the rubble, scanning the area for a reasonable explanation.
[dice=knowledge (dungeoneering)]1d20+7+1d6
"I agree. To the north it is."
[dice=perception for traps]1d20+10
"Let us proceed then! To the Eastern tunnel!"
The party moves to the closer fork and heads north. The 35 foot hallway opens up into a long, rectangular room. A pungent smell of chemicals fills everyone's nostrils, and the source of it is a 25 foot long pit of bubbling green liquid. There's a 10 foot drop to the surface of the green liquid, and in the middle are two sections of floor, almost pillar-like, that stand up at the same level as the rest of the floor in the room.
"And NOW is the time I am using that incantation for flight. I doubt even my skeleton would remain in that acid. Would you mind doing the honors of playing ferrymaster, Bjorkus?"
Bjorkus's bovine snout wrinkles at the acrid stink but he nods in response to the elf's request.
Bjorkus flies the party across, one by one, with no issue beyond much nose wrinkling.
The hallway to the west winds back down and shows an oddly constructed series of paths. There are three exits from this area, one of them going down.
Dalton rubs his chin. "If I were her, I'd select the location farthest from harm. That would be the deeper of these paths. The staircase would most likely lead us to her, I'd say."
Since they didn't really know, Dalton had no large complaint to opposed suggestions. "Bjorkus, the flying spell will last but a few minutes, yet it may be useful for you to scout a room before we enter; you won't set off any counterweight-based traps, and you'll be as quite as a very large flying mouse."
Bjorkus chuckles at the notion of a giant flying bull-mouse and, with surprising aerial grace, drifts on.
Bjorkus floats down the southwestern path, and sees a river small and faster moving than the last with a bridge across it covered in rubble. In three of the corners are crates, all filled with more digging supplies.
"Nothin' that way", the bull says as he floats back toward the others. "Just more water and diggin' supplies."
Bjorkus floats to the north and finds himself in an oddly shaped symmetrical room with hallways leading out the north and east.
Bjorkus drifts back to the party.
"Movement up ahead", he rumbles in a low voice. "Be ready for a fight. This might be her."
Rilka checks her pistol to make sure its loaded. ”Hopefully it is her.”
"Probably the prisoners. But, I hope so too."
"I hope it is the prisoners myself. If we can find and free them, that means she won't have any hostages."
The party begins moving over to the hallway where Bjorkus heard the noise, but Rilka suddenly stops everybody. She sweeps her eyes carefully over the floor, then moves one foot forward and sets off a series of three trapdoors! At the bottom are jagged spikes pointing up with old bloodstains on them.
Rilka gets on the ground and leans backwards into each hole, taking out her tools and going to work. After a minute each trapdoor is shut, and with a jump on the ground Rilka shows they're safe to walk on.
The party continues on, and true to Bjorkus's words, sounds begin echoing off the stone walls. There's some movement, but also two faint voices. As Rilka rounds the corner she sees more collapsed rubble, but it's not blocking the entire path, just funneling it. Halfway down the hallway is a large tunnel going to the east where the noises are coming from. At the mouth of the large tunnel are two identical statues of gargoyles. There is a pillar collapsed sideways and behind it are two undead. The flesh of these walking corpses are rotting and putrid, their body skeletal in places and their eyes sockets glowing with red light as they heft longbows, longswords on their hips.
Rilka
Gabriel
Raul
Enemy
Toramin
Dalton
”Carin wights,” Rilka whispers shaking her head. ”Their touch can drain your essence and energy. One of us, someone really nimble and agile, could try to draw their fire allowing the others to charge. With the rubble and pillar in the way, ranged attacks will be difficult.“ The halfling unholsters her pistol and gets to the first pile of rubble.
"Rilka, I'm pretty sure out of all of us you are the only one that qualifies as nimble and agile." Gabriel commented, feeling a little sick as he felt the evil of the undead. "I think our best bet is drawing them close and taking them out quickly. Perhaps focusing on one at a time to make it less likely they can steal energy from us."
Gabriel briefly glances to Toramin. "If they're touch is that deadly, you're our best bet about avoiding it. Think you can draw their focus?"
"I'm always willing to stand between others and danger."
Toramin doesn't fail to notice the odd placement of statues of defenders in an otherwise unadorned structure.
They recently tried to collapse the way, and there are "statues" guarding the way? I bet they are golems. Though much less refined than the ones father makes.
"It seems beyond reason to me that there would be statues here when the architecture of this place has shown no previous embellishment. I think they may be tiny golems."
Toramin moves towards the obvious trap.
Gabriel follows a few steps behind, ready to fight. "Golems... are... bad?" He asks, having never even heard the term before.